


Mad Love

by Viridian5



Category: Two Guys a Girl and a Pizza Place
Genre: Crack Fic, Episode Related, Humor, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2000-05-30
Updated: 2000-05-30
Packaged: 2017-10-02 08:47:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Viridian5/pseuds/Viridian5
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pete and Berg escape the wedding party to renew their own ties.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mad Love

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for "El Matrimonio Loco," "The Monitor Story," and "Another Moving Script." If Pete and Berg were mine, Berg wouldn't run around so much, and Pete would know who The One is.
> 
> The disappointing recent season had only the occasional great episode, but the finale was a return to good form. I loved Robert Goulet saying he would marry Pete and Berg if it became legal.... When the show's at its best, it's really hard for me to write something _more_ demented. Doesn't stop me from trying, though.

As I dragged Pete toward his room, I could hear the mariachi band playing and even a bit of Robert Goulet singing on the roof for the insane, brilliant Cinqo de Mayo-themed wedding Irene had put together for Sharon and Johnny. It made the perfect demented accompaniment to my lust. And his whining about doing it in my room instead this time.

Not that he didn't want to participate; he just didn't want to do it in _his_ room. His life might not be as neat and controlled as it used to be, but he still liked to keep his bedroom that way, especially if he'd be leaving it for three months. My take was: he'd be gone, and he didn't know anybody would be seeing it, so why should he care, right?

Well, too bad he cared. I had plans for his room while he was gone.

"Berg, why can't we--"

I stroked the roof of his mouth with my tongue to stop his protests while closing the door behind us. I'm talented, okay? And that's one of the spots on Pete's body that can shut down all brain function for him when touched correctly.

"We don't have much time," Pete gasped as he devoured my face in quick kisses. Had him back on track now. He kicked off his shoes, and I did mine.

"I'm up for a quickie. Way up." He had too damned many buttons on his suit, and he was having trouble with mine too. Sex was so much simpler when we were sitting around in our sweats watching _Teletubbies_ or something.

I was so hard, so ready, but I held it back through sheer will. I wouldn't see him in forever, so this had to be good.

"I told Marti I had some last minute things to do."

"And that's not even a lie." She'd have him for the next three months, so why shouldn't I get him while he was still here? "Yeah, the wedding party would notice if we disappeared for too long."

"I hate being mad at you." He had my jacket loose and started on my tie. I already had my hand down his pants, stroking.

"Well, you're not very good at it. Look, I'm sorry too. I know you well enough to know you didn't want me to see her even if you couldn't ask me not to. I know you're passive-aggressive."

Pete smirked as he pulled off my tie and flung it, then did the same with my jacket. "You're a prince among men."

I did hate us being mad at one another. Usually, with most people, I saw arguing as good, clean fun, a kind of sport, but it didn't feel like that with him. It hurt when we did it.

If Robert Goulet hadn't been there to talk Sharon and Johnny out of their wedding jitters and me and Pete out of our mad-on, Pete would be leaving for fireman's boot camp with the two of us still hating each other. "Three months." I hadn't meant to say that. Or have it come out in a whimper. We've never been apart for more than two months in all the years we've known each other. I kissed him harder and threw him onto the bed.

Pete acted like he didn't notice my pathetic whimpering, like I'd just made a simple statement. Maybe it helped that I'd already stripped him naked. "It won't be very long."

Relieved, I played along. "If those big, burly firemen make you their bitch, I want all the details."

He threw the last of my clothes aside. "I'll try to sneak a camera in."

"That's friendship. Fuck me, Pete."

"I'm glad you asked."

He pinned me down on the bed and put his mouth to work on my cock, balls, perineum, further, oh yeah.... No light strokes here, he made me feel it all the way to my scalp as he thrust his tongue inside me. Sometimes I couldn't help thinking that he kept his hair that short just to keep me from being able to get a good grip and yank it out at times like these. I was begging him for his cock. I only hoped it came out coherent when I told him that I didn't need the fucking fingers; I was ready _now_.

I made myself understood somehow, because he reached for the slick and condoms in the night table. Even better, he did one of the world's fastest preps before thrusting home in a perfect burst of weight, pressure, heat.... "How do you want it?" he whispered, as he slowly corkscrewed back out, torturing me.

"Fuck me through the mattress. I want to still be feeling this tomorrow."

He purred-growled and started a pounding rhythm. His mouth and hands were everywhere, exactly where I needed them. From long practice, he knew how I liked it. Moaning, I wrapped my legs tighter around him and stroked and kissed every part of his skin I could reach. I knew how he liked it too. I grinned as I realized the mariachi band upstairs was playing "Suspicious Minds," and Pete smiled too. We moved together, on the same page for the first time in too long.

He felt so good on me, in me. He always did.

I came first in a blaze of pleasure, bucking him deeper into me one last time, which set him off. Tangled, sweaty, tingly-happy, we rested there and tried to fight off post-sex comas. We still had to have a quick shower and get back to the party.

Yeah, we'd get up. Any day now.

"The only thing I ever liked about us fighting was the make-up sex," I said.

"I'll miss you," Pete said into my neck as he stroked my hair.

"I'll miss you too." More than I could ever tell him.

Pete finally untangled himself from me and got up. I could see places on his neck and chest where my bites would leave bruises. I wondered if Marti would notice. I hoped she would. I watched Pete pull his usual self back around him until it made a perfect shell again. I couldn't say anything about it, not when I had my own shell.

"Now I have to change the bed and--"

"Don't worry about it. I'll do it."

"Oh sure."

"Really. It's only fair." Sure, I'd do it. The day before he got home. No point in doing it now when I'd be jerking off in here for three months anyway. I liked the clean way he smelled, okay?

"Okay, I'll take your word on it."

"Great."

"Don't mention it."

He started to walk to the bathroom, then came back and said, "Could you...." As if he didn't want to leave.

"What?"

"Could you look after Irene for me? I mean, I know she stalked me and made a voodoo love doll of me-- Wait, why am I asking you to do this?"

"Because she threw a great wedding for our friends and her minister got us to forgive one another?"

"Yeah, Robert Goulet. Who knew he was a singer, a minister, a notary, _and_ a couples counselor?"

"The man's a god."

"Yeah. So look after Irene for me. I know I broke her heart when I went for Marti, but she's just too crazy, at least for me."

"And I'm not?"

"You're different."

"Of course." I shook my head. "You sure do attract the psychos, Pete." What was up with that? They flocked to him, while I had to work hard to get and keep them.

"I'll see you upstairs in a bit," Pete said before he left for his shower.

I burrowed into Pete's sheets and tried to work up some enthusiasm for going back to the party. I had to say a brave public goodbye to him before he went off to fireman's boot camp for three months. Boot camp of any kind didn't sound like any fun to me, but it was important to Pete with his whole "That's where they separate the firemen from the wannabes" thing.

It was rough when life seemed to be working out for everyone but me. Did that make me selfish? Probably, but who cared?

I'd get myself back together and give a perfect front to the world. I was good at that.

But first I'd have to stop listening to Pete showering and stop thinking of ways to chain him up in the tub so he couldn't leave. I know he wouldn't appreciate that.

This was going to be a long night.

******************************************************

Enjoying her piggyback ride to my apartment, Irene kicked and giggled as she tightened her stranglehold on my neck. "Ride 'em, cowgirl!"

Pete being gone had led to me and Irene drinking together in reject misery which led to kissing which led to dancing which led to this, whatever this was going to be. This probably hadn't been what Pete meant when he'd told me to take care of Irene, but, hey, he had Marti for three months so he had no right to tell me to go steady with my hand. I had needs too.

I know, I know. Irene? Well, I liked my women crazy.

And we were both smashed.

"Air. Need air," I gasped.

"Oops! Sorry." She let go and slid down my back to the floor. After adjusting her K-Mart-styled senorita wear, she said, "I have to use the little girl's room. Be right back!" She sped away in a cloud of curly hair and long, red, flouncy skirt.

I wondered what kind of medication her doctor had her on.

I drifted off for what I thought was just a second, but hearing her scream, "Oh my God, you and Pete are lovers!" brought me back fast.

Oh shit. She'd wandered into Pete's room. I should have known she would, but the two brain cells that weren't sozzled had missed a trick.

I ran in after her. The smell of sex and the messy, rumpled sheets made it too obvious what had been going on in here, but how did she get the idea that Pete and I had been going at it? "We're not lovers."

"Yes, you are!"

"No, we're not."

She looked like she was about to go all the way into hysteria. I wondered if I'd have to dial 911. "You are!" she shouted. "All this time, all that effort, watching Pete, studying him, and I missed this? How did I miss this?"

"We're not! I can explain this!" Think fast, think fast.... Pete and Marti? No, she hated Marti, so that wouldn't be much better. I know. "Oh my God, someone broke in and used his bed! The fiends!"

She... smiled? "How sweet! You're a gentleman. You don't have to kiss and tell because I know. I know what Pete smells like and now I know you too."

I'm scared. Hold me?

"This is great!" she said.

"What?"

"We have even more in common than I thought. We both want to do Pete!"

"Yeah, but I actually got to, uh, _do_ him."

"And I'm taking his seconds. I feel so much closer to him."

"Uh." Really, what could you say to that?

She patted my chin. Since the top of her head only came to the middle of my chest, she had to reach to do it. "You poor thing! You're hurting too."

"Well...."

"Don't you worry. Mommy will make it all better. Three months will go by like a breeze! In fact, I have some toys I think you might like. I haven't tied on the ol' strap-on for some time, but it's like riding a bicycle. How does that sound?"

I managed to choke out a "I'm really, really hurting. I could use some comforting."

"I'll be right back." She turned back to look at me, her eyes darkening into evil, danger. "And then I'm going to fuck you right in this room. Pete's room." Then her tone returned to its normal, chipper-on-speed tone. "It's going to be such fun!" She left to get her... toys.

I thanked the Great Beneficent God of Psycho Women. And I especially thanked Pete, who was kind enough to provide for me even when he went away.

That was love for you.

### End


End file.
